Trials of the Night
by skywolf666
Summary: Reality was never as painful as the nightmares that would haunt Eve's sleep for nights and nights on end, and with a comforting hand to soothe her she could soon find her peace again, but even her nightmares were far more preferable to the hell of reality that Aidan found himself violently waking into time after time with no kind hand in sight for him. Kamui centric, pre-game.
1. The Elder Sister

Three quiet knocks disturbed the teenage First Princess of Nohr from her book, and furrowing her brow in puzzlement, the long-haired youth glanced down at the page she had been reading before placing it down on the bed beside her and turning to the door. The candle she had been using to read by was burning well despite the lateness of the hour, and it warned her no servant was calling on her. There would be no reason for the quartet of servants waiting in the fortress to call for her unless her father had issued summons for an unscheduled return, and the thought made her stomach clench tightly in discomfort. It was only her third day since she had arrived at the fortress with Elise and Leon in tow, and she hadn't spent nearly enough time with her dear sister and brother as she would have liked to yet. Still, she was no stranger to her father's demands and knew prompt obedience was the only way to answer them, and with effort, she forced her misgivings down and swept her face clean of emotion to greet whoever it was who was calling with a calm, clear, "Yes? What is it that you need?"

"Can I come in?"

The whispered reply through the door was shaky and soft, but to the princess inside the borrowed chambers in the fortress, it may as well have been a shout. Forgetting completely any thoughts she'd had of her father tearing her away from her short vacation, Camilla sat up and tossed aside the thick blankets she had been so comfortably wrapped in. In a graceful bound she was out of bed and across the cool stone floor to the door, worry taking precedence over anything else at that familiar voice, and she was unsurprised when she pulled the door open to see her visitor and greeted her with a soft, gently concerned murmur, "Eve... Did you have another nightmare?"

The answer was apparent without words, something Camilla noted the moment she finished asking and with a greatly pained flinch. The younger girl was shivering in the hall, still fighting off residual wisps of fright and despair from whatever night terror that had driven her from her bed, and across her pale face, barely hidden by her long, lush platinum curls, tear streaks had made themselves known. Her hair and ivory nightgown were both dishevelled from much tossing and turning, and she wrung her hands nervously while keeping her ruby eyes firmly fixed on the bare feet that had carried her from her room to her sister's. She answered without looking up, a quick, shaky nod before she repeated her question with the faintest hint of a whimper in her soft voice, "Mm... C-Can I... come in...?"

"Of course you can, you silly girl..." Camilla answered with a sigh, and without waiting for her sister to find her courage, the older girl tugged her gently by the shoulder inside of her room before closing the door behind her. It was a routine she knew well despite the fact that they lived so far apart now, and with a nostalgic kind of pain, Camilla wished that single year she and her siblings had been permitted to live in the fortress with their new siblings had been so much longer. Eve had been frightened clean out of her wits then, and had come running almost nightly to her sister's room for comfort from her nightmares before her brother had joined her two months later, but that had been years ago, and they all had grown since those days. Still, it was second-nature to her now to comfort Eve from such things, and Camilla followed her instincts as she guided her slightly shivering, slightly sniffling little sister to her bed.

Pulling back the covers, Camilla slid in first, and Eve followed her dutifully, nuzzling close into the open arms that offered reassurance and warmth when she needed them most. The smaller girl nestled close into her lap as she had back when she was just a child, and Camilla couldn't resist a little smile as her arms looped themselves automatically about her waist to bring her in closer beneath the blankets. Her little sister was a child no longer, she was an adolescent now, and such moments only brought the girl's growth into sharp relief for the older princess. She had been so small when they had first met so many years ago, but that memory was painful for the both of them, and Camilla worked quickly to cast it from her mind so she could focus on the present.

Brushing an errant hand to put order back to her tangled curls, Camilla settled Eve closer to her, humming a lullaby she knew would calm her sister faster than words. The young girl was crying again, as silently as she possibly could as she hid her face in her sister's bare shoulder, but Camilla had no mind as she felt the warm wetness of her tears. Her gentle-hearted sister was easily frightened by her terrible dreams, and though she rarely spoke of them when she woke, as long as Camilla could comfort her, she did not mind not knowing what it was that scared her so. If she could provide comfort, remind her that she was safe and loved and bring a smile back to her face before the morning came, that was far more than enough for her.

Still, as they nestled together in the older girl's over-large bed, Camilla could not help but notice what had changed since the days when this had been a common occurrence. The frail, sickly little girl Eve had been in her childhood was slowly but surely growing into a self-assured and strong young woman, though such changes had come about slowly and steadily, and not without many a setback. She still had not outgrown her illness, the healers still held the doubt she ever would, but Camilla was fierce in her belief that her little sister was stronger than any healer or alchemist could ever know. The ugly fits that had taken her so many times in her childhood, the horrifying episodes where she choked and wheezed and gasped for even a single breath were far less frequent as she entered the first stages of womanhood, and it gave all of her siblings great relief to see the changes in her frame and face.

Eve had grown strong with her permission to begin combat training now that her constitution had improved, and the second princess of Nohr took to the sword like a wyvern to the sky. With Gunter and Marx's instruction, Eve was excelling past the wildest expectations that had been set for her despite her late start to the lessons, and her enjoyment of her schooling had only given them all hope that she would be a fine soldier yet, all dire predictions from the healers be damned. She was weak in body yet, she could not be pushed as hard as another girl her age and most certainly not like her twin brother, but her enthusiasm and her drive was second to none, and her fierce desire to be treated as any other pupil rather than a glass figurine only exasperated and encouraged her tutors to be sterner with her training. Yes, the young princess had grown from that fragile, delicate little thing she had been upon their first meeting, and none was prouder than her elder sister.

However, as that strong, determined adolescent curled up closer into Camilla's welcoming arms, it was only a painful reminder that she was not as fearless and unwavering as she wanted to appear to her elders. She had been bought again to the healers before their visit, only a mild relapse she had insisted, but Camilla wondered as she eyed the pair of bandages wrapped tightly just beneath Eve's elbows if it had been only that simple. A simple bleeding was not the trigger for her nightmare, Camilla was aware of that much, but she had to be grateful the healers had decided to abstain from leeching her again before the awaited visit. That particular treatment for her condition never failed to wake the girl in a fit of screams the next night, unable to comprehend the filthy creatures had been removed from her body long ago and instead that they were still at work, sucking the blood from her veins and leaving her shivering and shuddering for days on end as their bite marks healed over.

"Camilla... They don't hurt, you know."

Eve's soft words startled her from her thoughts, bringing her again back to the present, and Camilla looked down curiously at her sister to see her watching her with those strange ruby red eyes that seemed much older than her years would suggest. It was only then that Camilla realized she had settled her hands over the bandages that had been wrapped over the two identical scars that stretched from crease to crease under Eve's elbows and was squeezing gently, and abashed, Camilla quickly settled her hands on her shoulders instead. Eve was smiling slightly though, her eyes still shining with tears but her expression far more calmed, and she leaned forward to rest her cheek against Camilla's shoulder before she murmured into her long, lavender curls, "I'm sorry I came in here again. You have to be tired of this."

"I could never get tired of you." Camilla scolded her lightly, and she shook her head in fond exasperation at the apology she should have expected. Leaning back against her pillows, Camilla brushed her hand again through Eve's thick platinum tresses, fingering the long strands lovingly to soothe her further. Eve smiled hesitantly at the caress, nuzzling closer and letting out a shaky little sigh, and knowing her reassurance was both welcome and needed, the older girl continued, "You're welcome to stay again with me tonight if it will help you sleep... It'll be like when we were younger. Does that sound like an idea you'd like?"

"Are you sure...?" Eve asked quietly, but she knew the answer to her question before she even spoke it. Her sister's rich, wine-coloured eyes were stern when the younger girl looked up to meet them, and she hastily bowed her head again to avoid the glare she earned for questioning the obvious. Though her expression was firm, the hands that had been rubbing circles into her back and stroking her hair were still as gentle as ever, and it gave Eve comfort even though she still could not help pointing out as she noticed the book that had been forgotten by the side of the bed, "You were reading, though..."

"Eve, how many times must I tell you that you aren't a bother, and I'd rather you interrupt me when you need me than wait and suffer on your own? What else are sisters for?" Camilla pointed out with a firm, no-nonsense tone that she knew would make the ruby-eyed girl flinch, but also would make her listen. She tightened her hold on her sister, squeezing gently despite her words, and she settled more comfortably back so she could look the girl clearly in the eye before continuing on in a softer voice, "I want you to be all right, more than anything else. I can't be with you at all times as I would like, but when I _am_ with you, I want to be able to help you when you need it... and even when you don't. I can't help it, and I won't help it, either. You're my darling little sister, and I want to spoil you silly."

The affirmation was sincere, Eve knew her sister well enough to know she wasn't simply exaggerating as she liked to for a jest or two, and the words made her chest tight in a sweetly familiar way. A small part of her resisted the offer for unconditional aid, young as she was she had more than enough pride to want to do everything herself even if she knew she was incapable, but she had ignored her pride already to come running to her sister when she needed the comfort. She was not yet old enough to not need the hands that were always ready to pull her up when she stumbled, and more than that, she knew there was a fervency behind Camilla's words that came from something harder than a nightmare, and sweeter than her sisterly instincts to protect and nurture.

Curling her legs to her chest, Eve simply sat where she was in Camilla's lap rather than answer, breathing in the warm scent of lilies that always seemed to be clinging to her lavender hair. She didn't understand where her sister's ferociously protective nature came from, not entirely, but she accepted it silently as she sensed a pain behind such acts. There was more than love at play in her elder sister's actions, far more, and Eve nuzzled into her a little more firmly in a bid to return the comfort she had been given without question. The last thing she wanted was for her sister's mood to turn melancholy because of her, Camilla was far more suited to smiles and laughter than frowns, and Eve's arms squeezed gently around her middle before she finally mumbled, "I'll stay with you tonight, if it's really not a bother..."

"It's really not a bother." Camilla reassured her with a hint of a chuckle, and she nuzzled her cheek fondly before finally allowing herself to relax again in a far more comfortable position on the bed. Her little sister read her moods like she could read a book, something that never failed to impress her, and she fingered her hair again as she noted the length of those platinum curls had increased since last she saw her. Tilting her head to the side, Camilla drew back further to take her in completely, raising her eyebrows as she mused with a soft little laugh, "Your hair is longer again... and what a mess. Love, go and fetch a brush from my dresser, would you? I'll comb it out for you before we sleep. You should get in the habit of tying it back for bed."

Eve slipped free to obey immediately, and the small, hesitant smile that had been playing around her lips grew wider and earnest at the offer of a brushing. Her hair was long and thick, making it difficult to tame on occasion when she had been hard at work or had a particularly rough night, and no matter how she, Felicia, or Flora combed and brushed and took it to task, it never felt as good as when Camilla worked on it. She raced to the dresser where her sister kept her supplies, selected her favourite brush, and hastened back to the bed and bounded back in without a moment's hesitation. Camilla was laughing as she took the brush from her sister, and without prompting, Eve hurriedly turned to sit with her back to her before she remarked thoughtfully, "But you don't tie your hair up for bed, do you? I don't think I've ever seen you tie it up, now that I think about it."

"It's different for me. I'm used to my hair being this length." Camilla replied evenly as she began to apply the brush in gently firm strokes through the tangled mess of her sister's hair. The younger princess practically purred in pleasure, relaxing and sighing contentedly at the soothing sensation, and Camilla's smile gentled as she continued her good work. It was such a simple little thing, but if it brought Eve such pleasure, Camilla had no mind in tending to her in any way she pleased. And her hair _had_ grown longer, it was now reaching down towards the small of her back in an impressive length that Camilla had equalled and held to since she was a child, and Camilla couldn't help but ask with another laugh, "Are you planning to let your hair grow any longer than this? You're already at about my length, and that's rather impressive considering you only recently decided to let it grow."

"No, I don't think I'll go any longer... It's a bit of a chore." Eve confessed with a sheepish laugh of her own, and Camilla's warm giggling response just made her smile. Chore though it was, she did take pride in her hair, and she had no plans to cut it and return to the short, scraggly mess she had let her hair be when she was younger. She had spent far too much time avoiding and escaping the healers to really care about how she looked, and with her constant desire to run and play as any young child should, shorter hair suited her purposes far more than longer. Still, she peeked out of the corner of her eye, turning her face just enough so she could glimpse her sister's before she asked shyly, "Does it suit me...? Or do you think I looked better with shorter hair?"

"You're cute no matter what you do with your hair." Camilla answered promptly, and the exasperated glare she received in response to her obvious dodge of the question just made her grin mischievously. It was far too fun to tease, and though she knew Eve had asked in earnest, there had been some honesty in her reply. She couldn't not think the young girl in her lap was adorable, and she was fully aware how biased she was. Nudging her sister's head back to the front, Camilla allowed three more long strokes of the brush before she began again, the laughter in her voice subdued to let Eve know she was being genuine this time, "I think this length suits you just fine... You're growing into a lady, after all, and the way your hair is now reflects your maturity. You're not the half-feral little urchin you used to be, ducking free of the healers and darting through the halls when you were meant to be confined to the sickbed."

Eve laughed a little at the jab that she knew was meant to shame her, but she felt nothing but an odd sort of pride. She hated a cage more than anything else, and to already be confined to the fortress was difficult enough for her free spirit to handle. To be forced into a single room for days on end had driven her to her wit's end, and she had made much of a chore in her earlier years by escaping the healing wards and leading the staff of the fortress on a merry hunt to find and trap her again. Her sister's words however gave her hope that she was succeeding in her desires, and she couldn't resist a second peek over her shoulder as she questioned, "Does it really suit me, Camilla?"

"It does." Camilla offered a gently reassuring smile to her before once again turning her head to make her face forward. Eve's need for reassurance, for her opinion, only made her chest warm with an equal mixture of pleasure and confidence that her work as a sister was doing exactly what she meant for it to do. Eve's steadfast belief and faith in her was a responsibility she took seriously, and it only made her that more eager to be the best she could for the girl who looked up to her so unwaveringly. Her strokes with the brush came smoother and quicker as she untangled the few knots left in her sister's thick platinum curls, and Camilla continued softly, "You're my little princess, through and through."

The affectionate pet name made Eve smile even though that same proud part of her rebelled at the idea of being called little, but she decided again to ignore that part of her in favour of comfort. She had calmed remarkably underneath Camilla's skilled hands and words, and she no longer felt the cold claw of fear around her chest. She had feared the sheer panic she had woken to would have triggered a fit, but the gods had favoured her and allowed her breathing to remain steady enough for her to leave her room and find her sister for the comfort she needed. Closing her eyes, Eve leaned further back against Camilla's hands, and her voice was soft and somewhat apologetic as she murmured, "Thank you... I'm still sorry, but... Thank you, Camilla. I really needed this."

Chuckling softly at the gratitude coupled with an apology, Camilla simply continued with her work as she shook her head with patient indulgence. She had never met a more well-mannered youth than her sister, and she had immense pride for the wisdom Eve had despite her age. Pausing for a moment, the older princess leaned over to press a little kiss to Eve's temple before reassuring her kindly, "You know you can always come to me when I'm here."

"I'm glad you were... It's not like I could have woken Aidan up."

Though the words were spoken with playful jest, Camilla couldn't help but flinch at them due to the truth within. Camilla knew full well how devoted the older twin was to his younger one, but his growth in the past several years since his arrival at the fortress had made him into a rather a morose and solitary individual. While his sister in comparison was all-loving and unashamed in her displays of affection, Aidan had become incredibly jealous of his personal space, and left no doubt that he would sooner cut off his own arm than sit with someone in his lap to coddle or comfort, even if it was his own twin.

The thought was sour to her, and it took effort to fight back her initial reaction to inject cheer back into her voice. She didn't want to upset the girl she had only just been able to calm and comfort properly, and Camilla put the brush aside before reaching to wrap her arms snugly about the slim girl. Eve leaned back automatically, allowing herself to be drawn snugly into her lap for a firm embrace, and Camilla nuzzled her neck lovingly as she replied with false amusement, "That's quite true... It's a very good thing I was here. How about I petition Father for another visit before the month passes? This time I can bring Marx with me."

"Could you?! I know he's been so busy with his studies lately, but I'd love to see the two of you together!" Eve twisted eagerly in Camilla's warm arms, making the older girl laugh as she loosened her hold to let her turn around properly. The ruby-eyed girl was beaming from pointed ear to pointed ear at the prospect of her elder brother coming to visit, and Camilla was pleased to see that her naturally pale skin was blooming with a healthy shade of pink at long last. "And Aidan would love it, too! He's been itching for a rematch, and Gunter has been pushing him so hard, lately! He's really improved! Do you think Marx can come?"

"I'll speak to him and see if he can or not." Camilla promised patiently, and she tilted her head from side to side as she looked over her good work before reaching to the left to set her brush on her bedside table. She gave a little stretch before reclining once more against her pillows, but to her amusement, Eve seemed to have no interest in relaxing as she thought eagerly of her elder brother joining her again in the fortress. The slim little thing was practically bouncing with excitement, and Camilla chuckled as she repeated, "I can only speak to him, you know that I can't guarantee anything... I know it has been awhile since Marx visited."

"Two whole months." Eve confirmed with a hint of a melancholy air, and her eager bouncing stilled as if the very reminder was painful. Though she knew that her elder brother's responsibilities to the kingdom, to their father was his utmost priority, it still pained the young princess greatly to see him so infrequently in the past little while. Every single visit, whether it only be a quick visit on his way to some summit or mission, or his longer stays where he drilled her and her brother relentlessly on swordplay were incredibly precious to her.

Still, remaining melancholy was not something Eve wished to do, especially as she noted the concern in her elder sister's rich wine-coloured eyes. She was quick to take in a deep and cleansing breath, wiping away her frown and replacing it with a smile as she knew Camilla would much prefer to see. "But both Aidan and I _have_ been training really hard lately, so he can test us again after being away for so long... and he'll have plenty of stories to tell us, too, I bet. It'll be fun."

"If that little display you showed me today is anything to say, I can imagine it will be fun. Your form has vastly improved since the last time I saw you training." Camilla agreed with a nod, and Eve smiled proudly before she went about the process of making herself snug beneath the blankets and next to her sister for warmth and comfort. Camilla smiled, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to her temple as she continued on with a chuckle, "Perhaps when I see you next, you'll be on par with your brother."

"Oh no, I doubt that. Aidan is way stronger than I am." Eve pulled a face at the compliment that she only wished could be true, but she felt no shame in acknowledging her weakness in comparison to her twin. Aidan fought with a single-minded determination that Eve admired, and every day it seemed that Gunter was pushing the older boy harder and harder in his drills. He had a full two year head-start on his sicker sister, and if he wasn't training in the sword, he was buried up to his sharply tapered ears in studies of magic and strategy. "I don't doubt that soon he'll be ready to show his worth to Father to be allowed to join all of you at the castle once more."

"Perhaps so, but Marx is in no hurry to test him... Not yet." Camilla answered calmly, and Eve glanced to her with confusion evident in her brilliant ruby eyes. Smiling gently at the look of dismay mixed with concern and disappointment on her twin's behalf, Camilla patted her hair as she explained warmly, "Love, Marx knows full well that even if Aidan can best him on the training field and join us all on the battlefield now, he wouldn't be willing to leave the fortress yet. Not without you. Aidan made it very clear that the both of you shall be tested at the same time, so that you both may leave together. He said that it would be grossly unfair for one of you to be allowed freedom and the other to remain caged."

Eve pulled a face at the logic that sounded exactly like her twin brother, but she made no comment as she knew there was no point in arguing. It always seemed that arguing with Aidan was very much like arguing with a brick wall, and she could not remember a single time when she had come out victorious. Stubborn as the two of them were, there was no doubt that Aidan was far more bullheaded than she was, and she sighed grumpily as she curled up unhappily next to her sister, "That sounds just like him... The big jerk..."

"If it were you who had started your combat training before him, would you be willing to leave him behind to join the rest of us at the castle?"

The question was pointed, delivered without an ounce of hesitation or mercy, and Eve slouched further into the comfortable bedding as she knew Camilla was right to ask it. The answer went without saying. Eve could not imagine life without her twin within her reach, no matter how they had grown since their childhood days. Aidan had become far more morose and solitary than he had once been, even if most of her youth was beyond her memory she knew that her twin had not always been cold and unapproachable, but he was still her twin. She needed him as much as she needed air. Hanging her head, Eve answered quietly as she knew Camilla would not rest until she spoke aloud, "No... I wouldn't..."

"Then don't call him a big jerk, Eve." Camilla scolded her gently, and she wrapped a warm arm about the younger girl to draw her close for a hug. She knew Eve only wished for the best for those she loved and was frustrated to think of Aidan once more getting the short end of the stick because of her illness, but Camilla also knew that the older boy never once thought of it in such terms. His love for his siblings was unquestionable even if he did not show it, and his loyalty to his twin was even moreso. "You know better."

"M'sorry..." Eve mumbled against Camilla's shoulder, but she knew she was forgiven as Camilla stroked her hair kindly and delivered yet another kiss to the top of her head. It made her tense and unhappy body uncurl slightly, and Eve nestled herself a little more firmly against Camilla's taller form underneath the blankets. The warm scent of lilies was calming and sweet, and the absent and rhythmic touch of her sister's hand in her hair was a soothing lull. She could feel her limbs and her eyes growing heavy again as the sleep she had been woken from when her nightmare had arrived began to beckon again to her.

Camilla noticed her sister's quiet and her gradual relaxing, and she began to hum again to help the call to sleep along. Eve mumbled something again into her shoulder, not seeming to want to succumb just yet, and Camilla hid a smile against her hair as she continued all the same. She understood and shared the desire to stay up and talk, their visits were so few and short that every moment they could be together was priceless, but Camilla could not in good conscience keep the girl up all night with chatter. Not when their visits depended as much on their father's unpredictable whims as it did Eve's fragile constitution.

The heavy weight of her sister's sleeping form in her arms a handful of minutes later told Camilla that her lullaby had been successful, and Camilla chuckled very softly to herself as she finally quit her humming and drew back just a little so she could free her arms. Her sister now lay curled up comfortably beside her, ruby eyes closed and her platinum-coloured hair fanning out gently on the pillow, reminding Camilla all the world of a kitten who had finally tuckered itself out with play.

Smiling gently, Camilla fetched her book and marked her page before she set the heavy novel down beside her brush on her desk. She stretched herself luxuriously once more before she leaned out of the bed to blow the candle that had been burning merrily beside her out. She settled back underneath the covers, curling up on her side protectively next to her sister, and she sighed happily as her eyes adjusted to the dark quickly and allowed her to make out the slumbering and peaceful form next to her. It had been long years since she and Eve had last shared a bed, and it was something the older girl had found herself missing even though they both were growing up.

'Ah well...' Camilla thought to herself with an inward and indulgent little laugh as she closed her eyes and willed sleep to come to her too so that she could wake up early beside the little girl next to her. They both were growing older, but they both still loved each other, and still needed one another as much as they had when they were young. It was simply the way things were, and while Camilla did feel so much pride to be watching her siblings grow, she couldn't help but hope that it didn't come too fast... Not just yet, at any rate.

'It's nice to be needed as much as I am, sometimes...'

 **AN:**

 **... Somehow this morphed from a, "Eve's growing up, let's track her progress!" kind of fanfic, and into a, "God I love sisters, and I love Camilla and Eve way too much!" kind of fanfic. I am almost sorry, but I'm really not. XD**

 **I know, it's been ages. I apologize, but life has been a kind of crazy rollercoaster for me the past little while, and my muse pretty much just packed up and moved to Aruba in the meantime. She really dislikes me. And I've been spending a lot of my spare time playing Hyrule Warriors Legends, and I do love this game to pieces, but I am now on the Master Quest map on Adventure Mode, and THIS GAME WILL NEVER END. I actually think the OCD speed-gamer in me is having a genuine breakdown. There is so much damn content to 100%, and I WANT to 100% it, but I don't think I am actually physically or mentally capable of doing it. Not without like... trading my sanity permanently, and I kind of need it these days. Sorta. Maybe. I can't decide.**

 **Ahem. Anyway. Writing. This will again be a two-parter, as Aidan is getting a chance to show off HIS growth in comparison to Eve's before I am going to start kind of moving on from pre-plot to actual plot. Maybe. I'm not entirely sure. (Again. It's almost six am and I haven't slept yet. I think I'm justified in being all over the place right now. XD) I just know that I kind of wanted a chance to dive into the twins' characterization a little bit more before I started hitting the in-game points so that their behaviour made more sense to all of you. And, I will also promise, that next time Camilla is not getting the centre stage. XD That honour is actually going to Leon. I promise that I love all the Nohr siblings equally, and they all will eventually get to be written about... Soonish.**

 **Just in general, I think around this time, the twins are roughly... Thirteen/fourteen? Just hitting adolescence, anyway... I'm of the opinion that, by the time plot is coming around, that Marx is in his early-mid twenties, Camilla is just a little below that, Kamui is eighteen, with Leon being seventeen and Elise being fourteen to fifteen. The Hoshidan siblings follow roughly the same pattern, though I always headcanon Hinoka to be younger than Camilla. Unless proven wrong, that's pretty much how I'm going to call it, just to give a rough frame of where things are and how I'll be handling it from here on out. And this is important because of things, which I am not going to tell you just yet, because that'd be spoiling what will be coming up in later works! (Am I an asshole? Yes, yes I am.)**

 **Anywhosit, please, please drop me a review if you're feeling kind enough to do so, and I will hopefully have Aidan's half coming up soon enough, too. Thanks for reading, and I will see you guys all in the next fanfic!**

 **Mood: Slaphappy.**

 **Listening To: "Ring Your Bell" - Kalafina (Fate Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works ED 2)**

 **~ Sky**


	2. The Tome and the Whip

" _Big Brother! Aidan! Take a look at this!"_

 _The voice cut through the small library that Aidan had been hiding in, bringing the older boy's attention to the entrance where his little brother was currently scrambling through, a wide smile splitting his features and his sharp burgundy eyes glittering with pleasure and pride. The younger boy held a thick tome worshipfully in his gloved hands, barely managing to skid to a stop on the polished marble floor next to the table where Aidan had been sitting. Thoroughly ignoring the stack of books that would have on any other day made him join his brother in his studies, Leon instead brandished the heavy tome, announcing in a voice made eager to share his secret, "Look, look! I brought it just for you! You have to look!"_

" _All right, all right, Leon... I'm looking." Aidan's voice was patient and calm despite his surprise to see his little brother so uncharacteristically excited, and he slowly closed the book he had been reading so he could turn his complete attention to his visiting relative. He hadn't known the younger boy was scheduled to visit him and Eve in the northern fortress, and from the winded look of the blond boy, he hadn't even bothered for a shred of his usual formality in announcing his presence. His hair was dishevelled from the journey, cheeks still red in testament to the biting chill of the wintertime, and he was almost bouncing on the balls of his booted feet as he demanded complete attention from his audience of one, "What is it you want to show me?"_

" _Brynhildr!" Leon exclaimed the name of the ancient text in his hands with a smug and superior air, and he set the precious Nohrian treasure on the table in front of his brother triumphantly. It left his arms free to be crossed behind his back, and the younger boy stood as tall as he could as he puffed out his chest importantly, and he knew from the sudden surprise in his usually so stoic brother's face that he had managed to do what he hoped to. It was so rare that the younger boy could startle his composed elder, and he took great pride in his newest achievement as he continued on cockily, "I started my training with it yesterday, and I had to come to show you it firsthand. I finally am permitted to wield it in preparation for the war."_

" _And you brought it to the fortress? Does Iago know you took it from the treasury? Does_ Father _know?"_

 _The sudden questions and the intensity of them startled the young prince from his glee in sharing his secret and triumph with his brother, and Leon felt his smile crack as his body shrank automatically under the realization. The shine left his burgundy eyes as he stared back at sharp and questioning crimson ones, and his voice became small and almost timid as he replied awkwardly, "N-No, I... I didn't tell Father or Iago that I would have it today... I only wanted to show you and Eve. I'm going to be going back to the castle tomorrow. Surely they won't notice it's missing for one day...?"_

 _The hesitant explanation and hopeful remarks along with the very obvious deflation of Leon's excitement made Aidan immediately regret his decision to question his brother. It was so rare to see Leon behaving like the boy he was rather than the keen-minded student, and Aidan hated himself at once for making him second-guess his decision to share a secret with him. Swallowing back his unease at the danger Leon had unwittingly put himself into in his excitement, Aidan instead shook his head as he offered a calming smile, "I'm sure they won't as long as you're quick about it. I guess you really were excited to show me, huh?"_

" _Marx has Siegfried in his possession, but now_ I _have Brynhildr... I'm finally catching up to him. I'm going to be the best sorcerer that Nohr has ever seen. Being able to start training with this tome is proof that I'm capable." Again Leon's voice filled with pride, and his smile became cocky as his face flushed with eager satisfaction. He reached forward to place a hand reverently on the face of the sacred spellbook before him, and he looked down to it for a long minute before locking eyes with his brother and promising him fiercely, "And I'm not going to stop even when I am the best sorcerer. There's no much to learn, still. Tactics, and politics, and lore... I want to learn_ everything _there is to know someday."_

 _Aidan couldn't help but smile at the lofty claim, and he glanced down to the tome before him that Leon was still touching with a suffusion of pride and determination. There was no better student in Nohr at present than the boy before him, he was a genius in many ways who demanded perfection of himself to the utmost degree, and Aidan believed in him without question. Nodding his head seriously, the older boy agreed even as he couldn't help but tease, "You'll get there someday... but you might want to practise at putting your collar on the right way before all that. And trying to read as fast as me."_

" _Damn it, not again...!"_

Through layers of pain and fever, the happenings of the previous day left the young boy's mind and left him again to wander the present in a sick and half-conscious daze. Aidan lay immobile and panting in his bed, the sheets kicked to the floor and his small, fragile body sprawled out on the crisp and bloodstained linens where he had been unceremoniously thrown sometime during the night. He could not remember being returned to his room after the violent episode that his last night was had finally ended, but the swathe of bandages that had been tied expertly about his torso told him that sometime after he had lost consciousness in the dungeons of the fortress that someone had decided to have pity on him and return him to his own chambers.

The thought would have made him laugh bitterly if he had the energy or the will to do so, and Aidan turned his head feebly into the pillow as he closed his crimson eyes tightly against the aching of his half-healed wounds. It wasn't pity that had made his captors return him to his chambers, it was simply wisdom, and though he was young, Aidan himself was wise enough to know such a thing. If he simply vanished from the fortress to languish in captivity underneath it, his twin sister would have noticed, as would his guardian, Gunter, and that would have led to questions that even his sadistic and malicious captor would have been hesitant to answer.

No, instead he had been whipped mercilessly, punished for a crime he had not committed, before his wounds had been healed halfway, almost as if an afterthought so he could be returned safely to his chambers to languish there instead. It was a step-up from the dank and disgusting dungeons, but Aidan could not appreciate the comfort of his rooms the way he had only a handful of days ago. There was no comfort to be had in a place that had been so violently violated, and even now, he cast a fearful glance over his shoulder to the doorway, as if he expected the same men who had taken him the night before to burst inside to take him once more to the prisons.

It had been the dead of night, and he had been sleeping soundly when the door had been slammed open with a deafening crack. The prince had awoken immediately, ready for a fight and far more angry than frightened until he had seen the three men responsible. One would have been sufficient to disarm him, he was only a thirteen year old boy without a weapon, but the ringleader had no interest in sufficiency. He far preferred shows of power and control, and with a cruel smile hovering underneath his mask, the sorcerer had extended a hand in silence and let the two muscle-bound lackeys beside him rush forward to capture the boy who hadn't even been able to leave his bed.

Aidan could faintly remember struggling as they carried him bodily down the halls, but his yells of pain and anger and fright had been muffled by the gag that had been expertly tied about his head. He was too small and weak to struggle against two experienced adult males, and a sharp and merciless whack to the side of his head was more than enough to warn him not to fight more lest he wished to taste such fare again. So he had quit his wild fighting, tense and silent in fear as he allowed them to carry him down the hall and stairs with frightening efficiency until they reached the depths of the fortress that he had never explored before.

Then he had found himself bound with chains, forced to kneel down with his ankles and hands tethered to three wooden blocks that he had noticed immediately were stained with horrible crimson patches. His gag had been left in his mouth as the two men backed off into the shadows and allowed their master to step forward and into the pale light of the centre of the whipping block where the boy had been bound. At the sorcerer's side was a long, black whip, and Aidan watched in agonized silence and anxiousness as the Nohrian tactician unrolled the instrument with a sadistic glee rising slowly but certainly in his pale face.

 _The lash came down with a scream, cutting through air before it reached flesh, and Aidan's cry of pain was muffled by the gag as the whip cut through the skin of his shoulders and back and laid it open with one cruel stroke. It was a harsh shock of anguish that roared through his entire nervous system, causing his back to arch and his arms and legs to stiffen and buck in response, but the pain had no time to fade or peak before the whip was being drawn back and singing once more through the air for another blow. He had no time to stiffen and prepare himself, no time to anticipate the approaching blows, and the whipmaster knew best how to extract the pain he wanted to inflict on the bound and helpless boy before him._

 _The twelve lashes fell hard and fast and ruthlessly on Aidan's exposed and naked back, and some strange and detached part of his brain was happy for the gag that muffled his screams of pain and shock as it understood it wasn't giving Iago the full pleasure he took from his sadism. Yet that part of him was far too detached and out of touch from his anguished body, and he could not tap into it's wisdom as he bent nearly in two, panting for ragged gasps of air as the flesh of his back shrieked in pain from the wounds that had been inflicted on him. Tears ran fast and hot down his white cheeks, his arms twisting helplessly against the chains that held him firmly in place, and Aidan fought not to sob as he absorbed the pain as best his small, fevered body could manage._

 _It was an anguish Aidan had never known before, despite the punishment he had thought he had taught his body to take over his childhood in Nohr. He had been slapped and punched by grown men beforehand, and those blows had broken and bruised his skin or drawn blood, but the pain from such wounds had never been so sharp or unrelenting. It left him gasping and hanging limp and broken, feeling the blood oozing from the twelve long wounds across his back and having no choice but to listen to the cruel, breathless and satisfied laughter of the man before him as he took his pleasure in his suffering._

" _Where is the tome, brat? I know it is here. I have been sent to find it. Tell me where you hid it, and I might end your torment here and now."_

 _The question cut through his pain, bringing Aidan's chin up from the floor to look with momentary confusion at the sorcerer as he tried to digest the spoken words. He understood, vaguely, what it was that Iago was asking for, though the reasoning why_ he _was being questioned did not make sense to him. Leon's arrival in the fortress, while unannounced to him, was no small secret. Why was he the one to be dragged to the prisons and whipped before being interrogated for Brynhildr's whereabouts? Would it not make sense to punish Leon first instead?_

 _But as Aidan's confused and pained crimson eyes met the flat and subtly dancing ebony ones of the sorcerer still wielding the whip, he understood almost immediately. Hatred burnt behind the sadism, a hatred that was strong and unrelenting and completely senseless, yet somehow still made everything perfectly clear to the young boy as soon as he saw it. Leon was a prince, a prince favoured by Nohr's king for his skill in tactics and magic, and Iago would not dare to lay a hand upon him without solid proof behind his whip. Aidan was no such thing, and that hate for the nobility was free to be wrought upon him to Iago's satisfaction, as Garon had imprisoned him within the northern fortress, and cared not a whit for his well-being._

 _'And if I tell him that Leon has Brynhildr and brought it to show me... He'll beat him, too.'_

 _The idea of his brother, his smiling and excited and enthusiastic little brother in such a position made Aidan's jaw tighten further, and his entire body stiffened in a show of silent defiance. His back and was torn and bloody, his head felt light and strangely detached from his body, but the thought of putting Leon in his shoes and taking his place in quiet and undisturbed slumber broke through the pain and brought his rebellious and protective spirit roaring to the forefront of his psyche. He would not allow it. It was not permitted. His brother was never to be hurt, not if he could prevent it. He would sooner die._

" _So be it... but your courage is wasted, brat. You may not tell me, but I'll find out soon enough... and when I do, you can expect another lashing. That back of yours will be a patchwork of scars before I am through with you... and I will enjoy every moment of the work."_

As Aidan lay quiet and dazed with pain and fever in his bed, slowly sinking back from the memory and nightmare, he knew that Iago would cleave to his terrible word. He could expect another beating... and even more in the foreseeable future, but he did not allow the thought to torture him further. He would not show pain. He would not show fear. That was exactly what Iago wanted from him, to glory in his weakness and savour his pain and despair, but he would not succumb. Though he would not be able to stop the beatings, he could stop the enjoyment that Iago took from them, and the thought made him smile with a bitter and exhausted sort of triumph.

The young crimson-eyed prince did not know however if it would be enough. He doubted he could protect his siblings completely by taking the brunt of the lash for their misbehaviour each and every time by himself... but he could hopefully deflect most of Iago's rage to himself if he tried hard enough. Boy he might have been, but to protect and to care for those close to him was far too ingrained within his nature to ignore. He only had to close his eyes and imagine the taste of the lash striking the backs of those about him to find his courage and willingness to be dragged again from bed to the depths of the dungeon once more. Marx's confident and encouraging smiles, Camilla's tender warmth, Eve's gentle impishness, Leon's fierce determination, and Elise's innocent love... He would never permit them to taste such pain if it was in his power to prevent.

A ragged breath escaped Aidan's tightly clenched teeth as his hands grabbed feebly at the sheets beneath him in a raw, foolish attempt to push himself up from the bed. The wounds across his back had been only partially sealed by the healing stave Iago had used on him, but such a passing healing had done nothing to really diminish the severity of his wounds. The pain still rocked him harsh and deeply, and he had no doubts he would not be able shake it for weeks until he properly healed. Burying his face against his pillow as he bared his teeth in seething anger, Aidan whispered hoarsely to himself, "They... can't ever know...!"

Panting as he fought down the pain, Aidan tried desperately to steady himself again and force himself to rise once more. The pain roared through him in raw, vicious waves, sapping his strength and sending hot and terrible jolts through his spine and down to the very tips of his fingers and toes. His back felt as if it had been set aflame, and the deeper damage beneath the cuts was spreading in an evil and unbearable burn until the entirety of his body simply begged for mercy. He was not ready to rise, not ready to use his anger for his fuel, but still he resisted the pleas from his body. If he hid to heal, he would only attract attention, and if he attracted attention, he would never be able to lie in his current state.

"They... can't ever... know..." Aidan wheezed out through quick and frantic bursts of air, and with more strength than he would ever admit he needed, he shoved hard and angrily at the bedding to shove himself weakly onto his side rather than his stomach. It was a poor first showing, and it made his pride rankle unhappily, but he had to be content with the tiny success as he stared in agony at the door that had not been locked behind him. What would he say if anyone saw him in such a state? How could he lie and prevent the guilt from festering and strangling the eyes of the ones he cared for if they saw him in such pain? No, it was simply unacceptable... He would not permit it.

Aidan's brain worked feverishly within the mire of the pain, reaching for logic that made little sense to his overloaded nerves, but nonetheless he tried desperately for something to cling to as he worked his body beyond its limits. They could never know. They could never learn and blame themselves. It was far more acceptable for him to suffer in silence, far more acceptable for him to be hated in the darkness, and he groped blindly for something to hold onto as he worked to turn himself over farther and hopefully swing himself upright on the edge of his bed with the impetus.

It was horribly slow going for him. The young prince felt as if he was wading through sludge as he swung his tired and battered body to the edge of his mattress. In a strange and distant way, he understood he was separating himself into two entities in a desperate bid to find control, but he was not overtly bothered by the thought. Part of him was the little boy, unused to such physical torment and wishing for its end, but the other was a grown man, aged before his time and taking on the burden of secrecy to protect the ones he loved. It was the man that he needed more than the boy, the strength more than the innocence, and he grit his teeth tightly together as he fought to rise from the bed and find his footing on the plush carpet below.

His bare feet did not move easily despite his commands, and his body was heavy and bent nearly double from the pain and the fever. The door seemed to be miles away, yet he continued to struggle towards it. He bent his entire will to the task, repeating his promise to himself in an endless refrain. It was all he could cling to in the mire of sensation and emotion, this one simple action of locking the door, and his body whined and sobbed for mercy as he pushed it harder than it was meant to go.

His wounds screamed out in protest with his every staggering step forward. The bandages that hugged his lean torso seemed damp, making his pale skin crawl in a reminder of the blood that had been flowing freely across it hours beforehand. His face was hot while the rest of him felt eerily cold, and his extremities seemed distant and strangely numb. The boy whimpered somewhere deep within him, protesting and bargaining and pleading for the end, but the man simply filed away each thought and pressed forward unflinchingly. His goal lay ahead. The boy's needs could wait.

The few feet were leagues, and Aidan's breath rasped harshly in his chest as his crimson eyes strained to keep his goal firmly ahead of him. The familiar surroundings of his room were dancing in the corners of his vision, the walls seemed to sway and melt whenever he took his gaze away, but the cold, dark door ahead remained a fixed point. As long as he kept staring straight ahead that door did not waver like his walls and shelves and other few sparing belongings, and that was all the boy needed to keep moving ahead. As long as that door did not move he was sure he would be able to reach it, and anything that happened afterwards was inconsequential.

Trembling hands reached for the lock as he closed in, and Aidan swallowed down the bile that had begun to rise in his throat from his body's numerous protests. It burnt and stung at his raw throat, memories of the cries that the gag had muffled when the whip had fallen on him, and his stomach knotted itself thrice over in violent distress. The man wondered in that strange and detached way if his body was simply coming apart at the seams, causing the boy to sob in despair at the sudden and violent mental image of his limbs falling away from his torso like pieces of a broken puzzle. Was that what madness felt like? Was that what it _looked_ like?

Sluggish fingers grasped metal, and Aidan willed all of his strength into turning the lock to seal the door. The resulting click was like a thunderclap within his very skull, and with the knowledge that he had effectively shut himself away in his chambers, his body's weakness reasserted itself without a moment's delay. He felt his legs simply give way underneath his own weight, and Aidan was aware of a dull pain in his jaw as he caught the doorknob with the side of his face on the way down. He crumpled uselessly to the floor, the faded wine-red carpet below meaningless in cushioning his fall as he landed hard on his knees and hand.

The first fall only gave way to a second as his one hand refused to catch him, and his chest hit the floor with a quiet thump and sent a painful reverberation through his thin frame. His left hand slid down the door, frozen where it had remained where he had finished locking it closed, and he looked up weakly to the shifted bolt that signified that he had been successful. No one without a key would enter to see him in his dishevelled state, no one would know what had taken place the night before, and the thought brought a grim and bitter smile to his face. He had succeeded. He was safe.

"No one can _ever_ know."

The words came out in a whisper, and the strength of the man he had used to bring him to the door faded away with the last triumphant exultation. He was no longer needed, not for the moment at least, and the boy came rushing back to regain control and give vent to his sorrows. His eyes stung, and the hot wetness of tears began to trickle in slow, unending streams down his red cheeks. He could not wipe them away, but he didn't mind their appearance as they curved their way down his face to fall soundless and heavy into the carpet below. He needed their release, if only this once, and he would allow for them before he boxed that away, too.

The boy needed this time, at least just once more, before the man would again reassert himself permanently. The boy's weakness would not help him in the days to come, and so he would simply throw it away. It would only hurt those he loved, hurt those Aidan wanted to protect, and so he would lock it behind another door. He would become cold and distant and strong, he would become a thing to hate and dismiss, so no one would ever want to care for him again. If he was impossible to love, there would never be anyone to mourn him. It was a simple solution, and one he could see no fault in.

But that would come tomorrow. Aidan bowed his head into the carpet, chest tight and his breathing hitching on barely audible sobs as the tears came faster and harder. He was not yet ready to take up that gauntlet, and still needed his time to grieve and rail against the injustices of the world. He would allow himself that one last indulgence, behind the closed door that now was his only bastion against the outside world that he could not allow inside, and he let himself cry every tear that his body could hold.

Tomorrow he would take on a new role. Tomorrow he would no longer show weakness or hurt or love. Tomorrow he would let those he loved see a different side to him as he hid his true self safe and secure within a box deep, deep within. But for today, the young prince of Nohr would cry from the pain of his half-healed wounds, and the angry throbbing inside of his chest that came from a shattered heart... For that prince was still a boy, and he was not yet ready to be in such pain, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

"No one... can ever... know..."

 **AN:**

 **I hate myself sometimes. I really do. This was extremely painful to write, for many, many reasons, and I apologize sincerely to Aidan and everybody else reading this for that. As much as I chuckle to myself about being a sadist, I actually don't really enjoy inflicting pain on these characters. Sometimes I barely even have genuine catharsis from it, either. Actually, to be honest, I had to stop halfway through this because of how badly it hurt me to keep writing this. Touched a few nerves deep in me when I realized the whole "locking away the world" motif of this chapter was actually a lot more closer to home than I wanted to admit... Still, I think that's why I'm actually oddly satisfied with how this came to be... I'm weird, I know.**

 **And, I kind of feel like I need to make something clear before I continue.. Aidan (and Leon in this particular time) is still a child. His logic isn't meant to be perfect in this fic. He's thinking like a kid, rationalizing it the way he thinks a man would, and in no way, shape, or form am I saying that he's right in his thought processes. He's half-delirious from pain, trying to rationalize his protective instincts with what just happened to him, and he's rather sick. My own personal opinions don't entirely mesh with what I'm writing. Just as a bit of a disclaimer, because I feel guilty about putting this poor kid through the wringer so soon after getting a hold of him... -sigh-**

 **Ahem... Anywhosit. There are maybe... Two or three more little shots I want to write before I actually get to actual plot, mostly because I need this backstory to be out there for everyone to understand why Eve and Aidan are acting the way they do when I finally hit the plot of the game. At current, I have one Nohr-sibling centric story planned, and then another featuring Aidan, and probably one more with Eve before I'll be ready to progress forward. I'm finding that I actually seem more willing to be writing about Fates in a linear manner, hitting the plot points in a more chronological way than just going all over the map as I did with Awakening...**

 **Still, that could be subject to change as I keep writing. I know that most of my work, keyword most, is probably going to be based around the happenings in Revelations, but I know for the fact that I do want to explore several things in Conquest and Birthright as I go along... Especially considering the romantic partners I have planned for Aidan and Eve... -evil grin- But you will see that as I carry on, as I don't feel like giving out spoilers right now... Because I'm mean.**

 **Anyway, thank you very much for reading, and if you feel so kind, please drop me a review below and tell me your thoughts on the twins. As every author will tell you, reviews are our lifeblood, and I'd love to know what you like, dislike, want to see, or speculations on what might happen in my future works. Thank you again in advance, and as always, happy reading!**

 **Mood: Sleepy.**

 **Listening To: "Hate Me" - Blue October.**

 **~ Sky**


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